"...in other news, the Analean Department of Social Science has announced it's movement of the so-called 'Doomsday clock' today, in a well-forecast move that was predicted by several major think-tanks on both sides of the political aisle. Previous to last week's military invasion of Shaadik by the Imperial Armed Forces, the clock was set to six minutes to midnight. Today, on the eve of one of the most tense moments in recent memory, the clock reads, simply, one minute to midnight."
"Today, in what has been called the political move of the century, the Analean Senate voted to condemn President Traick's approval of nuclear weaponry by the Analean Navy. A spokesperson for the national government said today that Traick declined to comment, but that accusations of 'war crimes against humanity' were unfounded, and that the judicial system of this 'great nation' would do justice where justice is deserved and find Traick to be innocent of all charges."
"We come now to the News Room to report today that the Emperor of Analea has come out of the ICU and is now in post-operation treatment. The Imperial Guard is on full alert, while the Analean Military Intelligence Service has noted that its interrogation of the last remaining perpetrator of the attempted assassination has yielded important information. Rumors have circulated through the government that Dentallia, a rogue sector and a claimed part of the Analean Empire, may have sponsored the assassins."
"And, finally, we have reports of a shut-down in all diplomatic talks between the Imperial Government in Chrysanthia and the Government of Moddeir have ceased, as the Imperial Diplomatic Corps was recalled and the diplomat of Moddeir was expelled from Analea. Possible reprisal for the boycotts and economic sanctions by Moddeir—an ally in the current war against Shaadik—is being considered, sources say, by the Analean Government. Heated discussion came about in the Upper House of the Senate, as the Nationalist Party called for a declaration of war and the use of the so-called 'Endgame Protocol' against Moddeir. The motion was defeated soundly, but observers are worried that a coalition government between the Libertarians and the Nationalists—which is a possibility for the upcoming election cycle—could have the clout to get a declaration of war passed.
This is the Analean International News Network, reporting live from Chrysanthia. Thank you for watching."
edited 2nd Oct '11 10:21:40 AM by USAF713
I am now known as Flyboy.It is a festive day in Tritonopolis, the capital of Poseidonia and one of the oldest and largest cities in the north part of Troperia. This city's population of 10 million, complete with an additional 15 million visitors from all over Poseidonia are flocking to the city's many squares and boulevards in order to take part in the celebration held in honor of Poseidonia's victory in the Gethic War, and the newfound unity between the two Poseidonian states. Roads to the city are already overcrowded, and a lot of the cars are unable to enter the city. A large part of the joint Poseidonian armies are parading the inner-city streets, while the two leaders, Ippolite Bradios and Game Chainsaw, are holding a speech together on Union Square.
"People of Poseidonia!", Bradios shouted in the microphone, barely audible from the crowd of a screaming million Poseidonians, hardly managing to fit together on the already extraordinarily huge square. "Even though, at first, all odds were against us, we managed to survive one of the greatest struggles our nation has had in recent history. But we would never have achieved that without unity and accordance." He looked towards Chainsaw, smiling. "This only goes to show that the relation between two Poseidonias needs to take a completely new course. As a symbol of our newly found unity, this date shall be declared a new state holiday – Unity Day. Unfortunately, the recent catastrophe in Upper Poseidonia has to make us practice our unity in unpleasant, downright horrible events and tragic losses.”
The sound of the cheering crowd was interrupted by a loud, buzzing noise, quickly rising to an ear-piercing crescendo. In a matter of seconds, Union Square turned into a cloud of smoke and ashes.
The effects were devastating – the entire city core of Tritonopolis was razed to the ground, taking a total of twelve and a half million lives, including 18,000 soldiers taking part in the parade – 10,000 oft them Lower Poseidonian, 8,000 Upper Poseidonian, and most of Poseidonia’s top officials. The country is in chaos and disorder, and the people are overwhelmed by panic and confusion. The capital of the Commonwealth is moved to Fort Zeus, and crisis squads are sent all around the country to, at least, try to prevent the country from completely collapsing.
The vice-president of Lower Poseidonia, Alexander Pantocrator, formerly one of the government’s most prominent peaceniks, who was away on a diplomatic mission to Bigtopia when the tragedy happened, is holding a speech in his office, broadcasted live on Channel One. Contrary to his usual appearances, he is messy and unshaven, dressed in nothing but a dirty old t-shirt and jeans. His face is red with rage, twisted in a pathetic grimace, resembling ancient theatrical masks. The speech is devoid of any traces of oratory skill, and much more closely resembles a temper tantrum of a broken man.
“All these years we have been trying to keep our policies peaceful and respectful towards others, thinking that peace can be achieved only through cooperation. And where the fuck has that brought us now?! More than sixty million lives are lost – so many people have lost their families, just like I have. Tritonopolis, the jewel of the North, lies in ruins. Upper Poseidonia is now a barren waste. What now? Will we just cry like this and wait for them to launch even more bombs? To allow more people to die? More cities to be destroyed? In lack of another way, I am taking upon myself the supreme and unlimited command of the Poseidonian Commonwealth and enacting martial law. Admiral Kalkis, who has proved himself to be an intelligent and capable man, will be in charge of Upper Poseidonia. Anybody disrupting the order shall be dealt with swiftly and mercilessly. All reservists will be called for service in the matter of a week, and those who ignore the call will be arrested and sent to our coal mines to fuel our war industry. I’m ordering all available nukes to be readied for a launch on all key targets in all Analea and Shadiik. If they don’t want to end that war themselves, we will make them do it. Afterwards, we shall send our armies to their hives, and rightfully take back everything that they have taken away from us – exploit the resources and enslave the population, so we can rebuild our cities. They will be more glorious than ever – made of pure gold and marble, if need be! Our country’s veins shall be refueled by their blood!”
The sin of silence when they should protest makes cowards of men.“Kyle Naighteyr here, life outside the Grand Council where figures of all political parties are in deep discussion of the recent crises that are affecting Troperia. One recent issue raising arguments among the councillors are the nuclear attack against Poseidonia... and their said plans of the lower nation to attack both Shaadik and Analea via atomic means. This issue has gave concern to the Premier, who has decided for the safety of all of Moddeir to keep out of any conflict now, issuing a state of total neutrality in these current dark times. Moddeins are advised to not travel outside our country due to the fear of nuclear conflict. The government is also issuing emergency powers to Grand Marshal Robert Alexander Glstyn to set the national security of the nation in case of conflict. We are also sending envoys to Starbockaria to try and end the current conflict with them so we can shield ourselves from any possibilities of nuclear war.
“The Premier has also issued all medical teams in Shaadik to return but has offered neutral medical facilities to be deployed in territory near the fighting that can be used for the Confraternal Army as a way of healing those injured during nuclear strikes. The Premier is also commencing that all trade vassals are to be guarded by destroyers just in case of a attack during these grime times.
“In more upbeat news from the councillers the Gethic Hand are less likely to be aggressive due to recent diplomacy plans by Vancore to avoid conflict with the current actors in the incoming Troperian Atomic War...”
-Meanwhile in Vancore’s office-
Vancore: You know why I bought you here today?
Zen: To issue the continued plans to avoid conflict?
Vancore: Not just that. I want advice... about possibilities of selling arms to all sides in this nuclear war. The time for the Gethic to gain money by our enemies’ struggle is now...
Zen: But sir! This will be seen as...
Vancore: Evil? We will not be doing it openly. I want our companies to commence secret arms deals with all factions. Make each faction think we are backing them 100%. That way... we will get more money to fund my weapon projects!
Zen: This... is a hard plan... but I will obey. I will pass a message to our arms companies and send words to all nations that the Gethic do not want war and is not commencing any path that will profit from this conflict. We must be seemed to be like Moddeir and not wishing to be involved in a nuclear war...
Vancore: So we will not enter a nuclear war. We just going to be the ones with an empire left... for we will be the ones to not get involved in a conflict without any winners.
edited 8th Oct '11 8:03:31 AM by Ailedhoo
I’m a lumberjack and I’m ok. I sleep all night and work all day."Poseidonia... has declared war..." Secretary of State Donnolley says as he sinks to his chair. "They have given an ultimatum: end the invasion of Shaadik, or face a second nuclear attack. We have 72 hours."
The Emperor of Analea—his right arm in a sling, rather than in his suit coat arm, and his unseen chest thoroughly bandaged—stands silent at the end of the table. His Cabinet turns from Donnolley to him, as well as the Chiefs of Operation and the President and Prime Minister.
"Evacuate major cities; initiate Prairie Dog Protocol. Move to retaliate, and shift back Operation Indestructible. Wind down the invasion in Shaadik. We can afford to lose that war, but we cannot afford to incense the Poseidonians."
"Sir, we cannot hope to get the legions out of Shaadik in 72 hours."
"Then do as much as you can, and in 48 hours, we'll try and negotiate with the Poseidonians. They aren't stupid. They know that any attack on us will be met with TREBUCHET, and they just lost sixty million lives. I could even say they're bluffing, but I refuse to take that chance."
The assembled members of the Analean Government and Military sit for a moment, digesting the situation they're in. Then the Emperor speaks again:
"Ladies and gentlemen, you have 48 hours to get as much done to get Analea prepared for a second strike and our armed forces ready to leave Shaadik. Contingency Protocol is codename Snake Bite..."
edited 8th Oct '11 10:54:43 AM by USAF713
I am now known as Flyboy."...I see. I understand. I will take overall command of the Upper Poseidonian army as well as navy. Yes, the capital is intact. No, we have not lost our naval capabilities. Civilian casualities? Inestimatable, but we understand we have lost contact with the southern half of our west coast. Towns not hit by the blast are communicating by messenger pidgeons. Assuming the cities were squashed flat, we've probably lost in the region of 10% of our population."
"Listen, I don't know what is happening on the mainland now. Chainsaw..." (Kalkis' voice begins to waver; it is clear the man is severely shaken) "well, for all the mans faults, he was the one who kept the north together. Now that he is gone, and his policy of intervention discredited, the cult of personality around him has evaporated almost overnight. The men he subdued, who served him... there is no clear line of succession in Upper Poseidonia. Chainsaw never got a chance to instate a proper democratic procedure; his government is still made up of the same mercenaries and corporate suits he used to prop up his regime. If I can't get back to the capital, the region is going to tear itself apart. There're already rumours of patricians fighting one another with hired gangs from the slums. Its a matter of time before mercenaries start appearing. I will land at the eastern end, but I cannot say when my... appointment, as it were, will begin to mean anything. I will send help when I can. Gods shower our surviving citizens with blessings in this time of adversity... Kalkis, out."
(Kalkis, aboard the Golden Chainsaw, shivers slightly. He takes a heavy admirals coat off the chair he was sitting on to make the call, and starts to button it up. He hears a knock, starting slightly. Then he sees it open, instantly drawing a pistol... but hesitates when he sees a familiar face.)
"Marshall Borent... you gave me quite a start."
(The marshall hesitates slightly, then starts forward cautiously, as his superior lowers his sidearm.)
"Indeed, admiral... these are terrible times. You must be under a lot of pressure due to your new appointment."
(The marshall stops, a safe distance back, and holds out a hand to Kalkis.)
"Congratulations for that, by the way."
(Kalkis, cautious as ever, hesitates only so slightly. Then he begins to stretch out his hand, and eventually, clasps Borents.)
(Quick as a flash, Borent shoots forward and stabs the ageing admiral repeatedly through the gut with a knife concealed within his uniform. Blood, and other... things, soon begin seeping through the white coat, as Borent holds the knife in Kalkis, and draws the dying man close enough to touch noses.)
"Upper Poseidonias men will not be pawns of the pox-ridden fools of the south. Chainsaw led us to glory, and threw it all away, just to appease some damn southerners..."
"Kcck... kcck" (Kalkis chokes his last breaths away. Borent, a middle-aged, heavily built man, throws the broken body to the side with a flick of the wrist, by the knife he used as his murder weapon. Soldiers enter behind Borent, but simply stand there watching. They are members of Chainsaws mercenary guard. It is clear that this was arranged.)
"I will not make the same mistake. The union, my friend, is over."
edited 8th Oct '11 6:17:39 PM by GameChainsaw
The term "Great Man" is disturbingly interchangeable with "mass murderer" in history books.To Inquisitor Yana Mooinjerey
The time has come to test that your current position is worthy for you. A great honour has been bested on you. This honour is so grand that you will likely find yourself as the most likely to become Grand Inquisitor after the end of Maria Haul’s career. You have been tasked with setting up a spy ring in Upper Poseidonia. This state which dared invade our land is now in a state of chaos after the nuclear attacks. Now CE Os will likely fight each other over who gets the biggest share of power, said CE Os are those in charge of government crime is becoming a nation in itself in this country and Lower Poseidonia is in a state of bitterness which ruins the alliance between both Poseidonias.
The objective after setting up the Forgotten Eye spy network will granted in the following notions of order:
1: Allow the protection of Gethic arms companies as they sell their products to the actors in the civil conflict. Ensure also they supply all sides to spread a civil conflict. Be entertained as mongoose mechs come to force on all sides.
2: Set a link to the black market to keep not only a eye on criminal dealings but see if we could use this to spy on the Moddein black market which may be unintentionally linked with the black market in Poseidonia.
3: Operation Chaos: you are ordered to help sped up the conflict between the CE Os. Send your agents to spread messages to get the factions to not have alliance and to continue a constant war with each other. Peace in time of doomsday must not occure!
4: Terminate any CEO who tries to temper with Gethic plans or is likely to make a peace cause. Fame any assassination on one of the rivals to cause bitterness to rise.
5: We must gain access to their weapons research and find the codes to their own moon cannon. Our moon cannon must be safe but not by blowing theirs up: rather I want you to hand the codes of the Poseidonian moon cannon to all Poseidonian CE Os to increase the chaos.
More orders may come but spy rings outside your nation will be set up in connection. Our network in Moddeir will be in contact with you.
In grand honour of personal notion that I best on you my knight on the chess board.
Vinsin Vancore, Director of the Gethic Hand, Grand Marshal of Order, General of the Omega Legion and soon to be Troperia’s greatest Merchant of Death.
I’m a lumberjack and I’m ok. I sleep all night and work all day.It had appeared that the war had split into two.
"Sir!" said a young ward to Emperor Dude. "There's talk of a Cartlian resistance."
"HOW CAN THIS BE?!"
"I... I... don't know, sir. Mr. Hopeless has powerful arms dealer friends outside of this nation."
"WHO!? WHO?"
"The... the... Analeans."
"I see. They're tough. But we have more people. We should win."
Just then, a rocket tore through the large window, that overlooked the City of Whittle.
"I told the architects to not put such large windows!" roared Dude.
The rocket bounced around the room, before exploding.
Luckily for Dude, he managed to escape to a different, secure room.
"They can crush my base. But they will not crush me."
-The following is send via email-
To Emperor Dude
We Moddeins wish for peace. Agree to a truce and we will... forget your attempt to attack our land. We want peace. If you choose war... we have the technology, the elite skills and the militants to bring down your dictatorship! Take the correct option and sign peace with us. No compensation needed to be sending to our Federal Republic. Accept peace and we will... let you survive.
In the name of the glorious socialist land that our founders liberated from tyranny.
Grand Marshal Robert Alexander Glstyn, leader of Moddeir’s military forces, on order of Premier Eddy Charles Khan.
P.S: give your response to a party of envoys we are sending to you, lead by a Doctor Mathew Barrel.
I’m a lumberjack and I’m ok. I sleep all night and work all day.Dr Émile Blanquier was nervously putting jewely and his favourite books inside a briefcase. He could hear the chants coming from the streets. He and his family, like many other peoples, weren't safe anymore in the South.
Foreign agitators and the local communists had excited the local workers to the point were they finally had risen with firearms. Some members of his family talked about mass killings of Corporate Executives and white collars where the proles had taken power. With feu Lacallière's mercenaries leaving the country, nothing stood in the way of a revolution.
There was still hope, though. His brother said that the government was still holding out up north, past the Meliorique river, in the plains and hills of the Shaaregi.
Maybe he could make it with his car, if he avoided the 'gis.
The Great Northern Threadkill.-Vinsin Vancore studied the reports on the desk on the recent occurrences of conflict throughout Troperia. One notable report of interest has leaded him to summon the chief Gethic diplomat Cha Zen and the CEO of Marl Industries, Jack Marl.-
Vancore: Good day gentlemen. You are briefed on the matter I summoned you for and now will be ready to discus. First though is a question to Zen; what are our diplomatic options?
Zen: With Shaadik now... seeking a route of change from its past self, the past Shaadik is now to be Shaaregi... in style that tension will raise as now we have two nations. I am unaware of how they will act in what the Moddeins dub the “Troperian Atomic War” but... both can be grand trade partners to use if we can... maintain suggestion that to Shaadik that we only supply Shaadik... and to Shaaregi we only supply to Shaaregil... as have been your plans with the other states. Of course... your plan may issue error if detected...
Vancore: We will probably inform Shaadik that we stick to honour... and tell Shaargeil we will support them as a more... “practical notions.” Whatever the case the former will supply workers to me via my trade plans and will likely be set in business with my nationalist factories. As my hand in Logham Field Marshal Fade will be set to do business with Shaadik. As for thy who does business with the people of Shaaregil... that is why I summoned you Mr Marl.
Marl: I will set my own little envoys to set around some of Shaaregil’s factories to work for us in return for giving Shaaregil some arms, just as old Fade will be doing with the industrial overseers of Shaadik. We will supply the ways for both Shaaregil and Shaadik to kill themselves... including access to our soon to be outdated “state of the art weapons...” in return for industrial goods and workers for the Gethic Hand.
Zen: This I sense may help your funding of our power’s regenerating o director but... we should be... careful. The other powers may not like our dealings if discovered...
Marl: Why worry? We are supplying them all! They just say that our dealings will all sides is just Gethic economics. That is all!
Vancore: Well... commence the plan. I also want you to commence your shop opening in Upper Poseidonia. We must supply the means to a continued conflict to weaken our enemies and to turn the Gethic Hand from just another power into the hegemonic power in the region. We such we may claim control over all of...
-Around this time an email is sent-
To the imperial Emperor of Analea.
The people of Moddeir are people of peace. I wish to... give my apologise for the trade boycott. I condemn the use of nuclear weapons but not the people of Analea who helped the Moddeins against dictatorship. As such... I wish to commence a meeting between us to discuss ways in which to lower tensions. To avoid diplomatic issues and to avoid being in the conflict during the meeting... how about we meet on neutral territory? I will give you the choice of location. An island is just a suggestion for protection duties and to allow symbolism as our trade vassals will be position near the island ready to do business. Trade deals may help stop the likelihood of our nations falling out more bitterly.
In grant honour from the representative of the socialist people of Moddeir.
Premier Eddy Charles Khan.
P.S. If you do not like to come yourself send your President to meet my chief of Civil Service on the location.
edited 11th Oct '11 1:11:28 AM by Ailedhoo
I’m a lumberjack and I’m ok. I sleep all night and work all day.To those it may concern in the Government of Moddeir,
The Imperial Government of Analea accepts your request to negotiate, as these dark times necessitate the setting aside of pettiness in favor of cooperation. To that end, we invite representatives of your government to meet with diplomats of our own government at the Protectorate of Aureal, a semi-independent island under the protection of the Empire. We offer the secure meeting place of the Tanea Bay Verana Naval Base, to discuss terms for future relations between our great nations.
We request that you meet elements of the Analean Navy off the coast of Aureal, for escort to Verana Naval Base. This is for the purpose of ceremony and tradition as much as it is for practical security, and I implore you to do this not for your own safety, but for the sake of your image with the public of Analea.
Yours truly,
President Traick of the Empire of Analea.
edited 11th Oct '11 7:55:01 PM by USAF713
I am now known as Flyboy.To President Traick of the Empire of Analea and his Emperor
In the name of peace I and a party of my fellow political figures will be coming to Aureal to discuss ways to ensure stability. As Premier of Moddeir I will be transported in one of our finest flagships, the cruiser Ard-Marragh. This will be guarded by several destroyers for protection lead by Admiral Mathew Fendeil till the flagship nears five miles to the location of meeting your navy escort, which in this case Ard-Marragh will continue the journey alone to meet the representatives of your navy. We suggest that the Ard-Marragh boards the flagship of this representative group so I and my party can be taken to the location on Aureal where the meeting will be held.
We will be ready to discuss ways in which Moddeir can prove that it’s... behaviour is not a threat. We are committed to honour are allies and peace. We may along with talking of trade plans may bring the issue of the nuclear conflict and any possible ways to maintain peace... via any deal we could make. To ensure trust we will bring several espionage documents and weapon plans to give to your nation as a sign of our commitment to ensuring smooth relations with you. This will include the former access to our spy networks in the Gethic Hand and the latter are the schematics of our stealth technology. We ensure is as a sign of trust.
We will be likely along with talks on trade, our relations, the current conflicts (including the Starbucksarian conflict) and the documents we are granting you to also talk of possibilities of the stability of the Troperian Confederation, along with ways in which we can help the regeneration of overly damaged nations. We may even talk of plans of making an international chess tournament between our nations as a way of stress relieve for both our people, as well as encouraging peace throughout the region.
In the name of regional stability and the grand cause of hope which my people send me to meet you.
Premier Eddy Charles Khan.
P.S. We will be brining two phoenixes on Ard-Marragh to give to you as a present in honour of this meeting.
I’m a lumberjack and I’m ok. I sleep all night and work all day.The President of the Empire of Analea stands on the deck of the INS Beliana, a Broadsword-class battleship and temporary flagship of the Fourteenth Fleet.
"Moddein ships are on long-range radar, sir. We place their ETA at an hour and a half."
"Good. Set a course for intercept, and prepare the fleet for escort."
The Emperor of Analea writes a message on his computer. It is difficult, with one hand, but he manages.
To Pantocrator,
You are not a foolish man. I do not claim to be overly intelligent, but I am smart enough to see this. You campaigned, as I understand it, on a staunchly anti-war platform, and now you would see fit to bring nuclear weapons to bear over foreigners' wars? I understand your anger. I am far from happy myself. But Shaadik will turn out for the worse if you force us to leave it as it stands. They will become a dictatorship that far outstrips the monstrosity they once were. You know this. I know this. And we'd be lying if we claimed we didn't.
Your deadline is 27 hours away. Analea has pulled her forces away from the former frontlines of Shaadik, and waits on the beaches for orders. I implore you to work with us, for the sake of the people of Shaadik. I will respect your decision, however, if you choose otherwise.
My people are worth more to me than a well-intentioned foreign military mission. And I—this may be reaching, but I would doubt it—think you know this. I will call your bluff. Make no mistake. I will freely pull my forces from the battlefield to save my own people.
Now, I ask you: is it worth the condemnation of Shaadik's people, for your contradictory principles? Is the suffering of war any worse than the horrors they will face? These are questions for you to decide, not me.
I have handed the game to you, with time yet on the clock. I hope and pray that you make a wise decision while you have it.
~HRH.
I am now known as Flyboy.Hopey was standing in the dark.
"Hello, Dude." He smiled. "Long time... no see."
"IT IS TOO LATE! I have transferred Cartley to a bordering region!"
"I see... Well... I can always take back Starbucksaria."
"NO! NO! YOU WILL NOT PREVAIL!"
"Shut up, Dude."
The room was somehow empty; only Dude and Hopey were present.
Hopey reached into his pocket.
<FIRES!>
The body of the former leader of a corrupt dictatorship fell to the ground.
"Time to reclaim."
To USAF,
I have returned to my rightful place as leader of Cartley, and of Starbucksaria. However, I am afraid I cannot return to Troperia with Cartley. Good luck, my friend. I am still, however, involved in your conflicts, and will still remain a part of the Confederate Cabinet. If it survives this...
From, Hopey
edited 13th Oct '11 11:14:24 AM by Inhopelessguy
-Deep in the main command centre under the Department of War in Moddeydhoo, Grand Marshal Robert Glstyn and Field Marshal Catherin Reid are observing the main map on the screen on the military positions of Moddein forces along the Starbucksarian border. Just then a young Lieutenant Marv Naighteragh listens to a transmission-
Naigteragh: Commanders! I just received word from the front. Hopey has reclaim position as leader of Cartley and Mr Dude has been reported dead!
Glstyn: Then the Starbucksarian war must be over... Lieutenant! I want you to inform our troops at the frontline to pull back. Return our forces back home. Peace for Moddeir may be in our time...
Reid: So long as the nuclear conflict does not get out of hand...
Glstyn: Thankfully the reports have shown that Fendeil’s fleet is in range of meeting contact with the Analaen navy. The Premier’s ship should soon be escorted to Aureal for the meeting. If all goes to plan we may be able to set ourselves to peace time readiness as oppose to nuclear war readiness.
Reid: Presuming that we can talk our fellow Troperians out of war...
-Meanwhile in the Hall of Order in Troyn, Vancore reads the reports of the upcoming meeting between Moddeir and Analae in his office with Zen-
Vancore: So the Moddeins are trying to ensure that they are at maximum peace? I guess we will not be able to supply arms to Moddeir’s enemies after all...
Zen: Intelligence suggests that the Moddeins may be willing to pass secret documents on us to the imperials...
Vancore: I know. I have ordered Haul to begin strengthening our counter espionage networks just in case. While we at it... send a message to the Analaens in request for information on the fate of Cornel Peter Light. I like to know what happened to my agent... so I can “reward” Light for his “success.”
Zen: Roger... I will send a message on...
Vancore: The Gethic must always be on the watch for what their enemies plan...
edited 14th Oct '11 4:37:17 AM by Ailedhoo
I’m a lumberjack and I’m ok. I sleep all night and work all day.The Beliana cruises through the ocean, her attending fleet in formation behind her. They number twenty-six in total, consisting of everything from light carriers and cruisers down to frigates and destroyers. They spot the Moddein fleet as they move and shift ranks, preparing to act as a general escort.
One hundred miles away, a submarine surfaces. The hull is sleek and black, like marble. The top of her hull parts, and an object rises from her inner bowels. It unfolds and extends a telescopic barrel, as lights on its side ignite and what looks uncannily like lightning cracks across the length of the weapon.
It turns slowly, as sailors inside the ship align the weapon with their targeting information. It charges, creating a quiet, high-pitched screech, like a dog whistle. The lightning running along the weapon intensifies to a blinding white, and then the weapon fires, vaporizing the air with the speed of its shot.
The water under the weapon depresses from the force of the shot, before shooting upward in a mass spout. Then the sound of the weapon catches up with human perception, and the resulting noise is deafening even to those inside the submarine.
"This is the INS Beliana requesting permission to provide escort for elements of the Moddein Navy—"
The Captain of the Beliana does not finish his statement, as a cruiser to his left—the INS Ratya—is struck, seemingly from nowhere. The side of the cruiser seemingly vaporizes, as the oxygen around it combusts and explodes. Seconds later, the sound catches up, and the glass of the Ratya's bridge explodes, while the windows on the Beliana crack.
The Captain of the Beliana is speechless for a few moments. Then he lunges for the radio, ready to give orders.
"Battle stations, battle stations, all hands. Scramble all aircraft; I repeat, scramble all aircraft."
I am now known as Flyboy.-On board the cruiser Ard-Marragh, Khan and his staff are listening to alarms. As the Premier was in talk with Aile Dhoo, Captain Willaim Bruce entered the main lounge where they were.-
Khan: What happen?
Bruce: Someone set up us a surprise attack! Our escort’s fleet has been hit! Admiral Fendeil is issuing his destroyers to support our Analean escorts! Premier! Your life is in danger!
Dhoo: What is the nature of the attack?
Bruce: No idea but the nature suggests subs. At this time we do not know who is attacking us. We have given a signal to HQ...
Khan: Will we be able to evacuate from this ship if it gets critically hit?
Bruce: We could try but the subs are likely going to target you. Our main concern is to protect this vessal from incoming attacks.
Khan: Then let’s hope reinforcements arrive. Dhoo!
Dhoo: Yes Premier?
Khan: Get to the bridge and see if Fendeil knows what he is doing! I want you to keep word with me on what the tactical situation is of this attack!
Dhoo: By your command!
Khan: ...and may God help us out of this mess!
edited 17th Oct '11 12:27:27 PM by Ailedhoo
I’m a lumberjack and I’m ok. I sleep all night and work all day.The Beliana turns hard to starboard as her guns spin on their axises, bringing their 18in bore barrels to face the rough direction of the enemy.
"Sir, we are having trouble locking onto target; it's flitting in and out of radar."
"Tell the fighters to get us a visual location, then—"
The Captain was cut short as the ship rocked. Outside, a shell—visible only for a split second as a meteoric flame—sliced across the deck of the Beliana, just barely scathing the massive warship. The weapon cut a swatch across the ship, leaving a scalding, molten trench and rendering multiple missile tubes inoperable.
An F-33 Arrowhead arcs right, its squadron close in pursuit. They are on the prowl for the enemy warships—now numbering at least three—to give coordinates for manual gun targeting. They are definitely stealth—something nasty, as well—and to add insult to injury, Aureal and the surrounding waters are currently in the Gray, leaving TREBUCHET out of the game.
"Ma'am, I've got visual on... wait, what's that?" The flight lead turns her head to look at her wingman's point of interest, and finds some kind of aircraft... or, what looks like an aircraft... shimmering in the air to their left.
"Hard burn, look out for attacks—Yafov!" She takes her Arrowhead for a sharp dive as a bright blue light cuts across the sky. There is an explosion, and she looks up to see half of one of her squadron's aircraft falling to the side of her.
"Command, we've encountered an... unidentified aerial hostile. Requesting reinforcements."
"I've got a shaky lock, sir." A bridge officer says, turning slightly towards the Captain of the Beliana.
"Alert gunnery; fire at will."
The Beliana's massive guns roar, the shockwave of their firing forcing the water under them downward, before the backsplash showers the ship. Missiles fire one after another from the back of the ship, like a cascade.
"How much longer are we in the Gray Zone?"
"Half an hour, sir."
The Captain sighed. He had to keep his fleet afloat for a single half-hour.
It seemed so very far away...
I am now known as Flyboy.-On board the bridge of the Ard-Marragh, Fendeil is talking to his fleet on the attack-
Fendeil: We must not let this chaos go and consume us! Issue strategic targeting at the likely location of the hostile origin! Launch depth charges and cannon bombardment at the areas! Issue defence positions around the Ard-Marragh to try and protect the Premier!
Bruce: Sir! The Premier and his staff have been informed of the attack against us! Dhoo has come to help keep contact between us and the Premier in this time!
Dhoo: What is the likelihood of Moddein reinforcements?
Fendeil: Sadly the nearest fleet is 65 miles away, serving as a patrol. It has the blessings of being lead by the aircraft carrier Cooney Lesh but the aircrafts stationed on it will not arrive to the battle zone for some time. Longer still will be the transport copter I have called for...
-Just then chaos emerges: one of the Moddein destroyers is destroyed-
Fendeil: God dame it! Who could be sick enough to strike us like this?
Dhoo: No idea... set the focus on guard and assault would be my suggestion on this matter...
Bruce: Bad news! Signals show suggestions of hostiles in the air! I am issuing the destroyers to set their flank cannons ready but we are likely to be overwhelmed!
Fendeil: Send a signal to the Analeans! We may need their aid of a helicopter to get the Premier to safety!
Bruce: I will send a signal sir!
Fendeil: We cannot let anything to chance! The Premier must survive! Moddeir will not accept a symbolic victory to those that try to hurt...
Bruce: I am beginning to commence the warning signal! God help us all...
I’m a lumberjack and I’m ok. I sleep all night and work all day.An Arrowhead skirts near the fleet, executing a ferocious barrel roll is it fires its autocannon at a shimmering form in front of it.
The Analean Navy doesn't know the specific enemy units they're fighting, but they are now sure of who has sent them.
Dentallia.
"We have a hail from the Moddeins. They want an escort for a helicopter to Verana... for their VIP."
"Get a pair of Daggers up there and comply. Once the VIP is out of the way, maybe they'll stop playing cautiously and properly support us."
I am now known as Flyboy.-both Dhoo and a Cornel Maria May storm into the lounge-
Dhoo: Premier! We must begin to evaculate!
Khan: I thought that we were stormed in...
May: Our escorts are sending in some air transport to get you and your staff out of this Hell. Once you are out, Fendeil can focus on punishing who ever did...
Dhoo: Listen! We have not much time! COMRADES! PREPARE! I better gets the secret documents and then we will meet on the top of the ship, waiting for our rescue service...
Khan: Let us hope the rescue service will be able to get through this storm...
-Meanwhile on the bridge, Fendeil has manage to get direct communications with Grand Marshal Glstyn-
Glstyn: Is the Premier all right?
Fendeil: We have arranged for him and his staff to leave this ship via the sky.
Glstyn: Focus your destroyers to give him air support. Once he is out of harm’s way... blast who ever tried to harm us! Several nearby fleets have been issued to aid you!
Fendeil: Cooney Lesh’s air squads should be nearing... hope be that it get us out of this mess!
-At this time the Premier and his staff are on their way to the cruiser’s helipad.-
I’m a lumberjack and I’m ok. I sleep all night and work all day.The room was filled with journalists and foreign officials. The spokesman on the stage was dazzled by all the flashes.
The man was rather short,about a meter and a half. He had a short haircut and was clean shaved. The party had carefully selected his clothings so that he didn't look either like a bourgeois nor like some beggar in rags.He wore the clean, blue working suit of the proles.
He was amused by the excitation of the crowd in front of him, but he of course couldn't show it. He had to look impassible and solemn.
The party just proclaimed to the world the birth of the People's Republic of Shaadik and it's intention to end the war with both the Poseidonias and Analea.
Compensations would be paid by the new republic for the damages caused by the criminal nuke attacks, through means which were not specified during the conference.
The party could not reveal it yet. The fat cats that fled to the North still had ears and eyes in the People's Republic.
But soon enough it wouldn't matter anymore. Their bank funds would be seized by the People's Republic and given to Shaadik's former enemies. It was out of the question that the poor people's of Shaadik pay any more for the former ruling class insanity. Their real estates, factories, companies and lands would be nationalised and managed by the state.
- * *
Get on your knees. Now. Julian Escobar's tone was pretty clear. The foreman and his team of workers obeyed immediately.
There were a dozen of factory workers, handcuffed and surrounded by 10 members of the Orange Spiders.
The workers didn't understand what was happening. Back in Lacallière's days, these young punks were kept in check by the Maxtopians and kept a low-profile. Now they invaded their homes in the middle of the night, wearing military uniforms and holding assault rifles to keep them at gunpoint.
They had been escorted by the 'soldiers' to their workplace without any form of explanation, only threats. One of them tried to resist and was badly beaten; he had a black eye, half of his face was swollen, and one of his ribs was probably broken.
Really, they should have left Babelgisburgen when they still could.
A strong voice came from behind them, the voice of the pack's leader.
Are these all you bring me? The list said about 200 persons where working for this company. Why do you bring me only 12 men?
The others probably fled or we're killed, Isaac. These are the only one we found, replied Julian.
Isaac Landry approached the prisoners with 5 other 'Spiders'. Isaac was the tallest of them, and, contrarily to all the men obeying to him, his long hair weren't tied.
The leader stopped abruptly when he saw the wounded worker.
Why is this one bleeding?
Well, he told us he didn't want to follow us, so we made him change his
Escobar couldn't finish his sentence. Isaac had turned back to slap him in the face at full force.
I told you to bring them back safe and sound. This man is completely useless to us now. What am I supposed to do with a man that can't even stand up, you fuckwad?
The leader approached the foreman and grabbed his hair with his left hand. He tied it with a purple ribbon.
They are all MY property now. If any of you dumbfucks were to even just look at them funny, i'll personally beat your sorry faces to a bloody pulp.
Because some of you seem to be retarded and didn't understood my explanations the first time, i'l say it again, one last time.
These workers are precious. They can maintain the factories in working order, and we WANT the factories to stay in working order, because they are the only thing keeping the cranky old bastards from up North and the communist dick-sucks from down south to blast the city to a rubble to get rid of us. Now get back to your post and try not to fuck up doing that, Escobar. I have to discuss with the foreman.
The Great Northern Threadkill.-The Premier and his fellow political figures reached the cruiser’s helipad-
Khan: Our salvation... is it near?
May: The transport should arrive shortly.
Dhoo: ...and a war will begin...
-Meanwhile far from the danger zone in the land under control of the Gethic Hand, all loud speakers, radios, T Vs and even internet devices were set to a grand message from a young official-
“My dear fellow citizens! I bring ill news! Our dearest leader, Vinsin Vancore, has been shot by an unknown assassin who is now currently being hunted by our security and military units. Our Director is thankfully alive and will be set to be treated at the Server’s Hospital. Our leader has issued a notion while on way to the hospital that Grand Inquisitor Maria Haul will be set on a mission to hunt down the employers of the evil assassin and set justice upon them. Grand Marshal Vide has been set to temporal aid Vancore to govern our grand power while the Director is in hospital.
“In relation to the high chance that the assassin, whom is currently being chased by several of our most elite vanguards, is a member of a militant group, a curfew will be issued and repression against militants increased. Citizens are expected to report likely militant members to your local Forgotten Eye station. All militant members will be hunted, trailed and punished for issuing a war against our dearest leader. ALL HAIL VINSIN VANCORE, WHO WILL BRING THE WORLD TO THE WAY OF ORDER!”
I’m a lumberjack and I’m ok. I sleep all night and work all day.The Black Rat pack halted in front of the broadcasting station. There where no external signs of damage to the gigantic building that claimed to be 'Broadcast Station SNT 1', and the dishes seemed to be in a functional state, according to the technician they had brought along with them.
The pack leader grinned widely and turned back to look at the technician who was nervously crushing his right hand fingers in the left hand.
Isaac had the right idea to keep you guys alive. C'mere, blondie, you're going to make yourself useful.
—-
Few in Shaadik and Shaaregi still had electricity, and of those that did, only a handful bothered to check out if anything was still broadcasted on television, other than the 'educational material' that was continuously streaming from the few local television broadcasting stations under the control of the communist party.
Thus, not many where there to see and listen when the Shaadik National Television broadcasted again after days of silence.
—-
The image on the few television screens active all over Shaadik switched from the rainbow colored bars that had been there for days to something entirely different. It now was the plateau of what used to be one of the most popular talk-show of Shaadik.
A tattoo-covered young-man in full Shaadiki battle-regalia was sitting on a comfortable red chair, looking at the camera while nonchalantly holding his standard-issue ARM 92.
Hello, Shaadik. This is Sergeant Paul Gauthier of the 178th Shaadik Infantry. I am broadcasting live from the capital city.
Sorry to dissapoint those that expected Late Night Commentaries to resume it's normal schedule, but i'm afraid that's not happenning. I have an important message to deliver.
The 'gis is still free and at the hands of patriots. The Maxtopian scum has been driven off the capital by our brave soldiers, and our factories are still functional. The 'gis is not a ghost town.
We control all the approaches and are ready to repel attacks by any enemy. We urge all patriots and isolated Shaadiki soldiers that can hear us to converge toward the capital.
God bless you, Shaadik.
The soldier stood up, saluted, and the message continued to be looped.
edited 2nd Aug '12 7:35:48 PM by OrangeSpider
The Great Northern Threadkill.

“Annalist of Geth codes report that the Forgotten Eye processes a strong spy network in Shaadik that was set up during the primary of the last conflict we had with Vancore. With Shaadik in chaos our reports show that agents of the Gethic are being sent to try and split the nation into even more chaos for sinister peruses. The Mole we deployed in the Gethic administration has informed us that Vancore is advocating Gethic military based companies to go and sell arms to the people of Shaadik. Suggestion show that some of these may result to a “drop shop in village” style of selling weapons that may include artillery. This is either a cynical attempt to generate money or Vancore wants to destroy the nation without going to war with it. That said the later idea may link with rumours that Vancore is wanting to sell weapons to all sides of any possible civil unrest so that can make the nation “owe dept” to the Gethic, allowing Vancore the power that was denied to him during the recent conflict we had with the Gethic. Barring that Vancore would want the nation completely derailed from the Analean invasion so that the Gethic could profit from the likely rise of violent groups that strive not for state creation but for criminal survival. This is reliant that the nation may split up.
Annalist also shows that, barring a few mercenaries linked to Maxtopia, the massive amount Shaadik forces under the Gethic Hand’s will may be requested to either join Vancore’ army or be shipped out of the country. What happens will be unsure to tell but work camps might be used as a last resort threat if any troop does not wish to join the Gethic army or leave the Gethic controlled states. We do not know the percent of which way the Shaadik soldiers will take as their fate but it is likely that Vancore might be trying to distance himself from the recently ousted Shaadik government so he could avoid conflict from the Analean Empire.
These two vitals of information have lead us to detect the Gethic spy ring in Shaadik and will ask for permission to link ourselves with the socialist militant groups in the chaotic nation of Shaadik to try and dissemble this spy ring so our agents can hinder Gethic profits. Our spies may need to go with peace keepers to keep cover. We also are going to need to alert foreign powers of the Gethic’s cynical ways to generated international condemnation of Vancore’s possible plans with the country.”
Notions discovered and reported by Shade Team 0.
-After reading this report in his officer, Eddy Khan turns to Aile Dhoo and says...-
Khan: Have the Department of War and the chief of staff been alerted to this?
Dhoo: All those with classified permission have access to this.
Khan: First issue some of our troops to be peace keepers and send them with medical teams to help out in Shaadik. I want spies to go with them so they can help annalist further notions of this Gethic spy network. Second... I want to send this message... after the censoring tactical information such as the notion about the socialist militants and the revelation that we a mole in the Gethic high command... to alert them of Gethic war companies entering the region. It wills probably raise our tensions so inform them to keep it secret from the general public. I want this report sent to alert the allies of Moddeir of the dangers to destabilising Shaadik would mean for the democratic rights of Troperia, not of trying to generate another conflict between us and the Gethic.
Dhoo: I will add an attachment explain the classified nature of the report sir. All leaders allied to us will be able to read this. Will this include the Analean Empire?
Khan: Naturally. We may be boycotting them over the nuclear incident but they can still be...
-just then a young civil servant busts into the room yelling “PREMIER! Poseidonia has been hit by a nuclear strike!” This resulted in both Khan and Dhoo to freeze in shock. After a few seconds Khan took up the phone and ordered emergency meeting for the Grand Council would need to discuss this destructive crisis.-
edited 30th Sep '11 7:22:26 AM by Ailedhoo
I’m a lumberjack and I’m ok. I sleep all night and work all day.